


Cookie Baking

by ariphyll



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Baking, Gen, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 07:45:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1810717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariphyll/pseuds/ariphyll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was rare that anyone was up before Washington.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cookie Baking

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Anonymous said: Blue team trying to bake.
> 
> I don’t know if you wanted like Church-blue team or Wash-blue team or what so I just picked one eenie meenie miney moe style and ran with it. (P.S. and finally my little headcanon of Wash being a good baker comes to light)

It was rare that anyone was up before Washington. Being taught to be up at the crack of dawn every day during Freelancer (not like they really had a ‘dawn’, just a wake up time that was considered dawn) was one of the many habits that had stuck with him due to the project, and the only time someone had been up before him was the time Caboose had a nightmare and didn’t go back to sleep.

So waking up to the smell of smoke was fairly alarming.

“If Caboose set himself on fire again I don’t think I can keep on saving him in time,” Wash muttered to himself, hurrying out of his room and into the main area of the base.

“God damn it Caboose, how did you manage to create this much smoke?” Tucker’s voice floated in from the kitchen, annoyed and frustrated.

“I don’t know ask the cookies why they are smoking! It’s a really bad habit to have.”

Wash sighed – he should of figured this was going to end up involving those two – and scurried into the kitchen, coughing slightly and waving at the smoke billowing out of the room. “What the hell are you idiots doing?”

“Agent Washington!” Caboose chirped, voice a little raw from the smoke.

“Someone let this smoke out of the base or something,” the blond growled, eyes stinging.

“What do you think I’ve been trying to do?” Tucker asked from somewhere to the left. “I’ve been trying to basically get rid of the walls over here.”

Coughing again, Wash crouched close to the floor where the air was clearer (the smoke itself wasn’t terribly thick anyway, more white smoke and annoying rather than dangerous) and waited for most of the smoke to dissipate. After about a minute most of the smoke had cleared out, and Wash was able to see what was making so much pollution.

“Are those… cookies?” he asked.

“Well, they were  _supposed_ to be,” Tucker grumbled.

Wash eyed the blackened circles on the cookie sheet warily. “How did they get this way? And how did they produce that much smoke?”

Caboose perked up at that. “Well, my mom always told me that cookies should always be baked at 530 degrees and Donut helped me make dough and when I put them in the oven-”

“Wait, 530 degrees? Caboose, cookies aren’t supposed to be baked at that temperature or they… do what they just did,” Wash said, frowning at the sad batch of cookies. “They should be cooked at 350 degrees, that’s the proper temperature.”

“Ohh, maybe that’s what she said…” Caboose tilted his head as he thought it over.

“How do you know what temperature cookies should be baked at, anyway?” Tucker asked, raising an eyebrow. “Are you like some baker nerd or something?”

“I baked a lot with my mother; some things just stuck around, I guess.”

“Like the exact temperature for cookies?”

“So a lot of detail specific things.”

Spying a hand reaching past him, Wash turned and grabbed Caboose’s arm before it could grab one of the burnt monstrosities sitting on the cookie sheet. “No, Caboose, don’t eat that.”

Caboose huffed. “But Agent Washington I baked cookies so I could eat them!”

“Dude, if you wanna eat cookies that are blacker then go right on ahead, but don’t come whining when you have a killer stomachache,” Tucker commented, eyeing the cookies distastefully.

“Look Caboose, you have any more of that dough Donut made? If he made it - although god knows where he found the ingredients - I’m sure it’s usable and I’ll help you bake a batch of cookies that might not kill you.”

Caboose smiled at that. “You’re going to help me make cookies? Oh, why this is great! I know just where to find an apron for you!”

With that the bouncy blue ran off, humming slightly to himself and horribly off-key, and that left Washington alone with Tucker, who was snickering slightly.

“Is there something wrong, Tucker?” Wash asked, giving his comrade a half-hearted glare while trying to hunt down the bowl that contained the rest of the cookie dough.

“No, just I didn’t take you to know anything about baking. It’s not something I’d expect to see some ex-special ops guy doing exactly.”

The blonde shrugged. “What can I say? My family was a long line of bakers.”

“So what, you have bread in your blood or something?”

“No, just recipes and old tricks.”

“Agent Washington!”

Wash turned to see Caboose barreling into the kitchen, white fabric clutched in his hand. Bracing himself for possible impact, the blue skidded to a halt in front of him, shoving the cloth in front of his face.

“I have found you an apron!”

“Thanks… Caboose,” Wash said gingerly, take the apron from his hands and proceeding to put it on.

Tucker whistled jokingly from where he was in the kitchen as the words ‘kiss the cook’ became easier to read. The blonde just rolled his eyes and turned back to the job at hand. Turning down the oven to the proper temperature and clearing off the cookie sheet, the freckled male found practiced movements returning well enough.

“Oh, this is so great, I’m sure these will be the best! Cookies! Ever!” Caboose cried from his position near Wash, watching with extreme intensity as the ex-freelancer prepared the batch.

“Oh yeah, with Wash and his baking skills I’m sure they will,” Tucker commented.

“Well, they’ll at least be edible,” Wash mumbled, deciding to taste a little bit of the dough. “Hm… is there anything sweet and powdery in here?”

“Yeah I think we have some sugar,” Tucker said. “Wait, why?”

An hour and a half later and Wash handed a cookie both to each blue (very persistent on everyone waiting until the cookies had cooled) and frowned. To be truthful, he wasn’t happy with the result – he had accidentally forgot to pull them out so they cooked for a few extra minutes – and he wished he had more supplies to try and sweeten the batter but figured that it was good enough. Plus, Caboose refused to let him try again.

“Fucking finally, Wash,” Tucker complained. “This isn’t some fucking baking competition.”

“I’m sure they taste just fine!” Caboose chirped.

“I hope they do…” Wash muttered as both soldiers took bites from the cookies.

Caboose’s response was instantaneous. “Oh my god! These are literally the best cookies ever! Of all time! How- how did you do that! These taste better than puff pastry’s banana bread!”

Tucker’s was slightly more laid back and surprise was clear across his face. “What… what the fuck there is absolutely bread or sugar or some shit in your blood because these are fucking great. Why didn’t you bake something sooner?”

“They taste alright? Really? Oh that’s great news, I was worried that they might be a bit too crisp,” Wash said, sighing in relief.

“Dude, these are fucking awesome. I didn’t think you could create something this great. Man, now if you could make our training as good as this cookie I’d be all up on that shit!”

Wash let out a small huff. “Glad for your enthusiasm, Tucker.”


End file.
